


Commando Christmas Eve

by doctorhelena



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Steggy Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:11:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5570734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorhelena/pseuds/doctorhelena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy spends a wartime Christmas Eve on a mission with Steve and the Howling Commandos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Commando Christmas Eve

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [klarkents](http://klarkents.tumblr.com/), as part of the Steggy Secret Santa exchange on tumblr. Hope you like it!

Peggy dove behind the tank just in time, hairs on the back of her neck rising as a flash of blue flame split the air behind her. She rolled, coming up in a crouch, peering around the front edge and firing off a few rounds before ducking back. She heard a muffled curse in German, which she hoped meant she’d hit somebody. She risked peering around the tank again, just in time to see Steve and Bucky bursting out of the building.

“Let’s go!” Steve shouted as he ran, taking out the last few soldiers with quick, precise tosses of his shield. Peggy nodded and made for the trees, watching out of the corner of her eye as Dernier, Dugan, and Jones joined her in zigzagging through the snow towards the edge of the clearing. A few feet into the woods she ducked behind a large oak and looked back towards the Hydra base, satisfying herself that they weren’t being pursued before she headed deeper into the forest to their rendezvous point.

A blast sounded behind them just as she reached the others. It sounded like Dernier’s explosives had done their job, and from the looks on Steve and Bucky’s faces as they’d run out of the building, she was fairly certain that they’d succeeded in grabbing the schematics they’d been looking for.

She leaned forward for a moment, hands on her thighs, catching her breath. The others were doing the same: all except Falsworth and Morita, who’d been waiting at the rendezvous point, and Steve, who was never out of breath.

Well, he was sometimes out of breath, but not usually from running. And thinking about that was really not a good idea, because they were out in the field with the rest of the Commandos, days away from any chance of a private moment – let alone enough privacy to do what she really wanted to do right now with the adrenaline still coursing through her body.

She made the mistake of meeting his eyes, which made things worse because he was clearly thinking along the same lines as her. They stared at each other for a long second before he blinked and turned away to consult with Dugan.

She cleared her throat and busied herself with debriefing everybody and reporting to Colonel Phillips, then helping Morita pack up the radio equipment. It had been a successful raid and they were leaving Hydra with one less base, although, as Dugan joked, three would no doubt soon spring up in its place. And, although it was bitterly cold, it wasn’t snowing, and the woods were really quite beautiful. Not a bad Christmas Eve, all in all.

\---

After a quick refuel with K-rations and water they headed out, the beginning of a long hike back to where they had stashed the truck. They’d get there sometime tomorrow afternoon, Peggy estimated, maybe sooner if the weather held. She watched her breath swirl in clouds around her face as she fell into line beside Falsworth, snow crunching beneath their boots and ice crystals dancing in the air in front of them.

“Think Santa Claus will find us all the way out here?” asked Dugan, from behind them.

“Quite frankly, I’ll just be happy if Hydra doesn’t find us,” said Peggy.

Falsworth nodded “I think Father Christmas would be well advised to avoid anti-aircraft guns and stay safely at the North Pole again this year.”

They walked in reflective silence for a few minutes. Steve led the way onto a frozen lake, staying near the edge where the water was shallow in case of mishap but the wind had left the ice bare enough that their boots wouldn’t leave tracks.

“I miss the days when the loudest bang you were likely to hear on Christmas Day came from a Christmas cracker,” said Falsworth.

Steve looked back, puzzled. “Your Christmas memories include crackers that… explode?”

Bucky elbowed him. “We have crackers that explode too. Only we set them off on the Fourth of July.”

Peggy and Falsworth looked at each other, eyebrows raised. “Not firecrackers,” said Falsworth, finally. “Christmas crackers.”

Beside Steve, Bucky laughed. “Does Dernier know about this?”

Falsworth sighed. “They don’t actually explode. They’re little tubes covered in twisted paper that make a loud bang when you pull them apart.”

Peggy nodded. “Although, they’re stuffed with paper hats and small trinkets that do go flying across the table if you pull them open vigorously enough.”

“Still sounds a bit dangerous,” said Steve, grinning back at her.

Peggy smiled back. “Well, one year nobody noticed that a spinning top had landed in my aunt’s teacup until she nearly choked. My mother had to thump her on the back. I believe she rather enjoyed the opportunity.”

Falsworth grinned. “I once nearly choked on the sixpence in the Christmas pudding. And another year, my sister swallowed it.”

“Not uncommon,” said Peggy, pausing for a moment to scramble over a log that was frozen half into the ice. “I lost a tooth biting into the sixpence once. A milk tooth, thankfully. Really, it’s a wonder any of us survived childhood Christmases. It’s probably safer out here hunting Hydra.”

Steve laughed. “Maybe it is. Remember the year Becca dropped the turkey as she was carrying it to the table, Buck? I really thought your mother might explode.”

“It’s funny now,” said Bucky, looking back at Peggy and Falsworth. “But we weren’t laughing at the time, I can assure you.”

There was a comfortable silence, broken only by the wind through the trees and the shuffling of their boots over the ice.

“Well,” said Dugan, after a moment, “We may be in the middle of a snowy wasteland behind enemy lines, but I did bring along a little something to make this Christmas Eve a little merrier.” He patted the breast pocket of his jacket.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You bring out the liquor every night, Dum Dum.”

Dugan shrugged, undaunted. “Well, tonight it’s filled with special Christmas Eve magic.”

\---

They made camp in a clearing about four hours from the Hydra base they’d destroyed. It was colder now, and getting dark, but they were reasonably sure they were isolated enough that their fire wouldn’t draw any attention. The clouds that had rolled in late in the afternoon would make the night dark enough that anyone tracking them would have to wait until morning, and there was a fairly decent chance that they weren’t being tracked at all.

While Dugan and Jones gathered firewood, Falsworth and Morita attempted to create a festive dinner out of K-rations. Peggy helped the other three set up the tents, and then made a brief excursion into the woods, returning colder than ever and fervently wishing she could relieve herself without exposing her backside to the elements like the rest of the team could.

Steve intercepted her just outside the circle of light around the fire, tugging her behind a tree trunk, leaning down, and capturing her lips with his. She knew she should protest, they were far too near the others, but she found herself quite unable to do anything but throw her arms around his neck and kiss him back, opening her mouth to his and making a tiny involuntary sound as he accepted the invitation. It was only when his hand crept down to slide into the waistband of her winter pants that she pulled back.

“Not here,” she whispered.

“Just trying to warm you up,” he whispered back, and she rolled her eyes.

“Mission accomplished. Now go back to the fire so I can reappear before they think I’ve been eaten by a wild animal.” He grinned and wandered casually back to the fire, and she followed a few minutes later.

Dugan and Jones had found some holly while gathering firewood, and while there hadn’t been anything particularly festive Falsworth and Morita could accomplish with the K-rations, at least they had decorations of a sort. And brandy.

The only gap in the circle around the fire was between Dugan and Steve, so Peggy sat down on the log between them, enjoying the warmth from the two of them at her sides and the fire at her front. Dugan passed her the brandy and she took a swig, warming her insides a little before passing the flask on to Steve. He took a swig too, although she knew from Dr. Erskine that it probably wasn’t having much of an effect.

They ate in a slightly melancholy silence, and Peggy was fairly certain she wasn’t the only one thinking about Christmases before the war, about home and family and loved ones. She nudged Steve’s leg with her own and he smiled down at her, a bit misty eyed. She smiled back.

“So,” she said briskly, turning to Dugan. “Any other Christmas Eve festivities you have planned?”

Dugan shrugged. “Well, it’s a bit of a hike to Midnight Mass, and we’re trying to keep a low profile, so carol singing is probably out.” He offered her the flask. “More brandy?”

“You know,” said Bucky, thoughtfully, in the tone of voice he reserved for things that would really embarrass Steve, “Holly isn’t the only Christmas plant that grows wild around here.” He grinned and pointed above Peggy’s head. “Do you realize that you’re sitting under the mistletoe?”

Peggy looked up skeptically, but sure enough, there it was, growing in a big bunch around the branch of a poplar tree just above her. It was hard to tell in the firelight, but she thought Steve was blushing.

“Go on, kiss her, Cap!” Dugan was enjoying this far too much.

Steve hesitated, looking awkwardly from Peggy to the rest of the Commandos. Jones laughed. “Oh, come on, we’re not idiots. We know you two sneak off to kiss each other on a regular basis.”

Both Steve and Peggy were blushing now. “It’s okay,” said Morita, “Howling Commandos honor. We’ll never tell.”

Peggy sighed. “Well, in that case,” and she reached up to Steve, turning his face towards her with both hands and gently meeting his lips with her own.

The kiss was short, sweet, and chaste, as befitting the fact that they had an audience. Nonetheless, Peggy felt a little breathless when she pulled back to the cheers and whistles of the Commandos. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Dugan hold out his hand, grinning. Falsworth sighed and passed him a pack of cigarettes.

“And that is all the show you are going to get out of us,” she said, sternly, but she didn’t object when Steve stretched an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, letting the flickering of the fire play through her closed eyelids and feeling, for the moment, utterly content.

Several card games and three rounds of brandy later, everyone was ready to call it a night. Dernier volunteered to take first watch, and everyone else stood up, shaking out their legs and stretching in the frigid air. Peggy couldn’t help but shiver when Steve withdrew the arm he had around her shoulder.

“Carter, it’s freezing.” said Bucky. “You need to bunk in with us tonight.”

Peggy nodded. She usually moved her sleeping bag in with the Commandos when it was very cold. Regulations or not, it made very little sense for one person to freeze all night alone in a tent on the cold ground when everybody else got to share body heat.

Tonight there was a little more teasing than usual as she slid into her sleeping bag next to Steve’s, and even more as he reached out to throw one arm around her, pulling her close and snuggling himself behind her. This was a new development, but despite her ice-cold nose she could feel his warmth radiating through two layers of sleeping bag and all of their winter clothing, and she wasn’t about to object.

“Oh, be quiet,” she said to the tent at large, “it’s freezing.”

“How come you never snuggle with me like that, Cap?” asked Dugan, plaintively.

She could feel Steve shrug. “I’m worried your hat would poke me in the eye,” he said, seriously.

Bucky laughed. “See, Dum Dum, I told you to lose the hat.”

Dugan sighed. “And I’ve told you, it’s my lucky hat. Leave the hat alone.”

Peggy yawned and burrowed a little closer into Steve’s warm bulk, closing her eyes, letting the quiet chatter in the tent begin to blend together. It had been a long day. A good day, though.

She drifted off to sleep with the hope that they’d make it back to base by tomorrow night. All she wanted for Christmas was a warm shower and a night in her own tiny room. And maybe a clandestine visit from Captain America, who, for such an easily recognizable figure, was surprisingly good at sneaking in.

After all, they still hadn't had a chance to exchange Christmas presents.

 


End file.
